


Eighty-one Songs

by Ajur



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1577507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ajur/pseuds/Ajur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories centered around Gaius and Wingul, one for each track of the OST. Will contain spoilers for the entire first game, but none for the second. Rating may change as more stories are uploaded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Milla's Theme - Mission

It was really a shame, Gaius reflected as he was sneaking out of Trigleph. He hadn't thought that Milla, out of all people, would agree to a plan that had, all things considered, terrible odds of succeeding.

It wasn't that he hadn't expected them to oppose his plan. Most of them were young and inexperienced, too much so to understand that the world did not adhere to ideals, no matter how noble they might be. He himself had learned that lesson the hard way and he had grown used to choosing the lesser evil, as much as it might gall him that it was necessary.  
They, on the other hand, had not yet encountered a situation where this was required. So far, they had chosen between good and evil, a choice that wasn't hard to make. But then there was Rowen, with years of experience in politics and warfare- a man who should have known by now that in some situations, sacrifices were a sad necessity to reach one's goal. It was astonishing, to say the least, that he had agreed to a plan so risky and unfinished without objecting. Gaius had not expected the Conductor to be drawn into a folly like this. 

And then Milla. Gaius sighed. She had not seemed so naive before. Maybe she hadn't known much about human society, but she had never hesitated to do what needed to be done. Why was she balking now? Her stance had been that spyrixes should be kept out of human hands, yet now she was ready to believe that the Elympians would willingly and meekly agree to destroy all of them?

He doubted it.

What he had seen in this world had done little to convince him that it would happen. The Elympians had known that their technology was causing their world to wither away, even if they hadn't understood the reason. Yet apparently they had barely even considered reducing their spyrix use, much less stopping it completely. They had preferred to enslave an entire people and turn it into fuel instead. No, he did not think they would hand over their spyrixes. 

Maybe they would agree to replace them. It was a possibility, he admitted as much. But relying on largely untested and unfinished technology that had proven to have severe side effect at times? There was no telling yet whether spyrites were even capable of replacing all spyrixes, and if they weren't, then what?   
What options remained? The Elympians needed to be forced to give up their spyrixes. There was no way around it. He did not like needlessly shedding blood and he would try to avoid it whenever possible, but sometimes, it could not be helped. 

As he entered the spirit world, he could not help but be disappointed that Milla had chosen this path. She would have made a useful ally. Now, it would remain to be seen whose will was strong enough to prevail.


	2. The Meaning of the Mission

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

Arst found himself thinking back to these words as he went to bed that evening. The city they had taken today... people had died, many of them by his own hands. He'd ordered civilians and soldiers who surrendered to be spared, but so many of them had fought back. It had been necessary to crush the opposition, he needed this city to proceed any further, but he found that it was no solace to know that when the faces of people haunted him- innocent people who had never asked for this war, crying over the mangled bodies of their dead loved ones.

And then these words. “Why are you doing this?” Why had he brought the war to them, why had he destroyed their lives? 

I didn't, he wanted to shout. I told you to surrender, I told you I would spare you, I didn't want to do this, this wasn't meant to be a bloodbath...

Yet what good was that? What good would it do anyone to know that he hadn't intended to take the city by force? It wouldn't bring back the dead. The ones killed by his hand or command. No matter how he twisted, he was to blame for the slaughtering, the deaths...

He could have said that he was fighting for their own good, that it was their own fault for resisting, but that left the bitter taste of hypocrisy in his mouth. Did he even have the right to say that he fought for a better Auj-Oule if his conquest only served to make people more miserable? What was the point of this war, then? He had set out to dethrone Merad, to right the wrongs he saw, but all he had done today was to cause more suffering, the very thing he seeked to end. 

Was he right in doing what he was doing? Or should he just... stop? Stop and crawl back home and forget anything ever happened?

And then the memory of three years ago came back. He remembered Lars, the Long Dau patriarch, staying behind on a hill while sending his soldiers to their deaths. Lars, laughing at him, saying that he did not care about lowly peasant soldiers. 

And wasn't that the difference … ? Lars, and Merad too, wouldn't lie awake at night because of what happened, would they? They wouldn't have cared, just as Lars hadn't cared then. 

Arst cared. He wanted to create a nation where the elite cared and he still believed in that goal. 

Yes, he was to blame for what happened today, but in the end, he realised, that just meant he had to try even harder. The lives taken today should not have been in vain. He had a duty not to fail them. 

That was the true meaning of his mission. The throne didn't matter much. Creating a better future for everyone did.


	3. A Lord's City Towering The Mountains

Wingul did not, in fact, like Khan Baliq. 

Oh, it was an imposing city and a nigh impenetrable fortress no less. Auj-Oule did not have a more suitable location for a king's seat, even without accounting for long-standing tradition.

None of that, however, could change the fact that it was cold in Khan Baliq.

Wingul did not like the cold at all.

It was alright in Efreeta. Efreeta was also very short in and around Khan Baliq , unfortunately. Ragnome and Undis were still bearable, at least.

And then there was Lasylph. 

Come Lasylph, the entire city would be all but buried in snow, requiring double- or even triple-shifts of shovelling snow, and even with the snow gone, the ground would be icy and slippery. (Wingul liked slipping in public even less than the cold.) It didn't help that Gaius' castle was almost impossible to keep at an acceptable temperature. 

Today was a particularly freezing day, even worse than usual. Wingul sat in his office, clad in his trademark coat and an additional cloak draped over his shoulders... and still cold. Even the reports he was reading had to do with the season. Food supplies having to last through Lasylph, the high roads being blocked by snow again, guards getting frostbite... why did Lasylph last so long in this region again?

Sighing, he signed another authorisation for the military to help clear the streets of snow. The recent snow storms had proven to be too much for the regular shovelling schedule. 

He was flipping through the rest of the reports - snow chaos, more snow chaos, even more snow chaos, did anything else ever happen in this season? - when the door opened and Gaius entered the room.

Dressed in a simple shirt. No coat, no jacket, just a shirt. Wingul suppressed a groan. 

Gaius stopped for a second and looked at Wingul's attire, then chuckled. “Don't you think that's a little over the top, Wingul?”

“I could ask you the same,” Wingul retorted. “Is it really necessary that you walk around in a shirt and nothing more? I feel colder just looking at you.”

Gaius snorted. “I could walk around without a shirt; I don't anymore simply because it would be inappropriate for me as a king. So no, it's not necessary for me to wear only a shirt. If you want, I could take it off...”

Wingul raised an eyebrow. “Didn't you just say it was inappropriate for you? You contradict yourself, Your Highness.”

“Your office door has a lock. Is it still inappropriate if no one but you sees, I wonder?” Gaius reached for the key to turn it. 

“Well, now I know why you came here at least. You can unlock the door again. I intend to finish this. Maybe later...” Wingul said, holding up the papers.  
“Actually, I merely wanted your opinion on a report that came in just now. You just so happened to give me a cue. I plan to take you up on the offer, by the way. Now finish your reports and then come over to my office so we can discuss mine.” Without waiting for a reply, Gaius left the room.

Wingul shook his head as he looked after the king. It was very much like him, spontaneously interrupting whatever he was doing on the spur of the moment...

No time to be lost for musings though, there was more snow chaos to read about, then whatever Gaius had in store for him, and then possibly the other thing Gaius had in store for him...

No, Wingul really didn't like Khan Baliq. But there were some things that reconciled him with the city.


	4. That Fist, Decision in a Blink

“So, what are you thinking?”

Wingul blinked. “What did you say? I was... I was distracted.”

Gaius laughed. “Ha! Better stop drinking now, Wingul,” he said and took another sip from the glass he was holding. 

The strategist glared at the other man in annoyance. “You had more than I did.”

“I'm also four years older and it's not the... the... what was it, second time? The second time I've been drinking? Yes, I think this is the second time... for you, that is...” The future king seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. 

The two of them were alone in Gaius' tent, late at night and away from curious ears. It was something they'd taken to recently; Wingul had become increasingly important to Gaius as a strategist in the past three years and they enjoyed discussing their next moves in private. On some days, and such a day it was, they would also drink together or play shogi.

Gaius snapped back to reality. “What did I say, you asked? I said that we should try to take Xian Du next.”

Wingul, who had taken the opportunity to have another drink, sputtered and coughed. “What? Are you crazy? The for... foriti... forcif... _fortifications_ are too strong...”

“Worrywart!” Much to Wingul's annoyance, Gaius chuckled. “It'll go fine. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner...”

“You are crazy if you're really considering this... this...” What was the word again? It started with a T... or so Wingul thought, but he couldn't remember. “...this nonsense!” 

“So being drunk turns you into a pessimist? Too bad, that...” Gaius refilled his glass. It seemed to Wingul that Gaius was making him look like a fool on purpose.

“Shut up! I'm not drunk-”

“Are too!” 

“Shut up, I said!” Wingul jumped up and tried to avoid swaying.

“No. Look at you, can't even stand up straight-”

At this point, Wingul's fist connected with Gaius' face. Both of them were flabbergasted as Gaius' head flew back. Wingul's eyes widened in shock as he realised what he'd done. “I, I-” But before he had time to come up with a sentence, the older man leapt at him...

* * *

_To be continued._


	5. Indomitable Fists that Know No Equal

Wingul stumbled backwards from the force of the first punch, stumbled over a chair and fell backwards, bumped the back of his head against the table and then unceremoniously flopped to the ground. 

“Hey, are you alright?“ Gaius knelt down next to him and tried to help him sit up, but Wingul ignored the hand offered to him and pushed himself upright. He had to suppress a groan doing so; he would feel the bruises of that stunt later on. 

“I wasn't thinking straight, I guess... Sorry,” Gaius said.

“It's me who should apologise, Gaius- I- I punched you first-” Wingul felt his face heating. What had he been thinking? How had he lost control so much?

“No need to worry about it. I suppose I did deserve it,” Gaius said with a rueful laugh. “Your punch made me sober up enough to see that the idea wasn't really my greatest.”

“That's very euphemistic of you- well, I mean, it wouldn't have worked at all...” 

“I get it, I get it, chief strategist. I'll be sure not to make plans when I'm drunk in the future- or piss you off too much when _you_ are. I never expected you to punch me... or that your punch's grown so much stronger in the past three years.” Chuckling, Gaius mock-rubbed his cheekbone. 

Wingul looked away. “Your punch still caught me.” It was true. Granted, he hadn't exactly been thinking of dodging any attacks at the moment, but still, he'd just stood there without even reacting at all. He had thought that after all the training he'd gone through he'd at least be a little stronger, but he still was nowhere near a match for the man...

“For all your brilliance when it comes to strategy, you can be remarkably stupid at times. It's amazing, really. Oh, don't give me that face, Wingul.” Gaius rolled his eyes. “You're still drunk enough to sway a little-” Wingul realised with surprise that it was true; he hadn't noticed, “-and you're sixteen. I'm twenty. You don't think that factors in even a little bit? But sure, go on ahead and overwork yourself trying to become stronger than me. I know you want to beat me, for revenge or to become king yourself or- I don't know. But it's not going to happen while you're in this state, that's for sure.”

Wingul sighed inwardly. That wasn't it. He did want to become as strong as Gaius, but not because of that, but not for these reasons- and he wasn't going to tell him the new reason that he'd found only recently...

“Well, anyway, drop the glum face and let's just go to bed. We can both use it. Let's continue discussing a better strategy tomorrow.” With that, Gaius sauntered off (showing no sign of being drunk, Wingul noted with no little envy). 

Wingul walked off to his tent as well- already considering when he could find time for training the next day.

* * *

_To be continued. Again._


	6. Clenching the Fist

The frontlines of battle were chaotic. There was no time to think; enemy soldiers kept coming and Wingul was too busy fending them off to do anything else. He didn't even know where Nils was; he'd lost him in the fray.

One enemy and then another fell to swift and accurate strikes and then, no further soldiers approached. Wingul looked around. The few enemies that yet remained were retreating rapidly.

They'd won- this particular skirmish that Wingul had led his small guard into, anyway. He wondered whether Gaius would be angry- he had told him to stay out of battle, observe it and then adapt the tactic accordingly-, but he had seen a chance to ambush the enemy unit as it was trying to flank the main army and he had taken it, to great success; very few of his men had died, as he noted when he looked around. 

It had been the first time he'd gone out into battle like this, nor had he ever needed to. He had always been fine commanding his army from afar. 

Staying away from the frontlines had allowed him to watch Gaius, however, and what he had seen... Something changed about the leader of Taurus when he was fighting his way through enemy forces. There was an air of... _liveliness_ or even savage joy about him. And Wingul had gotten curious about what caused this change...

He didn't understand it though. He enjoyed sparring- pitting his strength against a worthy opponent- but this constant chaos, the frantic scramble of killing the enemy before he could kill you... it didn't appeal to him in the slightest. Maybe this was another thing that he simply didn't understand about Gaius. There were a number of these.

“Lin!” Wingul looked up to see Nils, who still insisted on calling him by his old name, running towards him. “Thank goodness you're alright, I thought-” He stopped and drew a sharp breath. “You're injured!”

Wingul looked down. “...oh.” It was true. His arm was bleeding. “I hadn't noticed.” Which was a lie, he realised; he _had_ noticed, but there simply hadn't been time to pay attention to it and so he had forgotten. 

As his retainer bent down to apply a makeshift bandage (why he carried around first aid material Wingul did not know), rapid footsteps could be heard from behind. It was Gaius who was striding towards him, eyes ablaze. 

“I wish to discuss today's battle with you in my tent. No, Nils, not you- you can return to camp with these troops.” Gaius didn't wait for a response. He turned around and stalked away. 

Wingul sighed. He had been right. Gaius was furious, even if he didn't try to let it on too much. It wasn't the first time and he had stopped being intimidated by his anger, but he still didn't enjoy being the target of it. But there was no sense in delaying it, that would only serve to make matters worse, Wingul thought as he followed.

When he arrived in the tent, Gaius was already waiting, pacing around the table covered with various maps.

“Just what-”, he stopped in front of him, “- did you think you're doing?”

“I noticed an opportunity and used it. That's all,” Wingul said flatly. 

“And you think I could not have handled it myself? Or that your _troops_ could not have handled it by themselves? _Why_ did you lead the charge? Look at that!” He gestured towards the bandage on his arm. “You're injured. Do you know how fast accidents can happen on the battlefield?”

Wingul looked at him in disdain. “Should you really advise people to stay out of battle? The last time I checked, you've been making a habit out of leading the charge yourself. How hypocritical of you-”

“I am still the better fighter,” Gaius snapped. “I can handle it and you-”

“I can't? Is that what you're trying to say? That I can't do what even the meanest of our soldiers can? That's what you think of me?”

Gaius rolled his eyes. “This again? Will you ever stop being so sensitive about it? I've _told_ you that you're the single most important man in my army by now. Stop trying to twist everything I say into accusing you of being useless!” 

“What am I supposed to think when you say something like this, then? You don't trust me at all, no matter what you say! I can pull my weight, but whenever I _do_ , you jump in and stop me! I don't want you to protect me, I don't want you to need to protect me!” Why did Gaius not understand it? He was constantly pushing himself to become stronger, to become a better leader; why was it so hard for him to accept Wingul doing the same? 

“Obviously you do need me to, since you can't seem to take care of yourself! When are you going to get through your head that I don't care about how well you can fight? Do you understand what I'm trying to do at all?! I want people to use their unique skills and talents without being looked down on because it's not connected to fighting!” Gaius looked positively furious.

“Yes, and you also want to protect the weak. Do you think I want to be one of the weak? I would have been king if it hadn't been for you, do you know that? I gave it up because I believed in you, but I will not have you lording over me! I decided to stand by your side. I won't end up cowering by your feet!” His voice had started calm, but had risen into a shout by the end. It wasn't like him at all, but he couldn't help it. 

“Why are you so keen on making it look like that's what I want? It's not! I don't know where you're getting the idea from!”

Wingul took a deep breath. “Really? You don't? You don't realise that all I'm asking for is to stand on my own feet? All I want is to...” His voice trailed off.

“Well, so tell me! We've been over this exact same topic again and again, and I tire of hearing you beat around the bush over and over again. Tell me what your problem is. We'll never move past this unless you do.” Gaius crossed his arms and leaned back, looking at him expectantly. 

“I... I want your respect!”

Gaius was silence for a moment. “But you do-”

“You're not even listening! I've told you time and again that I don't want to be protected. I want you to look at me and think that I'm... capable of holding my own.”

“...why is it so important to you that I recognise you as a fighter? As a strategist, you already have all the respect I could give you and more.”

“I don't want to tell you that.” Wingul looked away, then jumped when Gaius' fist hit the table.

“Don't make me repeat myself! I don't care if you want to or not. You're either going to _tell me right now_ or you stop complaining about this. Your choice?”

“You... unless I become strong enough to stand by your side, you'll never... look at me the way I look at you...” Wingul kept his eyes trained on the ground. He didn't want to look at Gaius. This confession was something he had never wanted to make. He had been content vying for Gaius' respect, to stand by his side- he had never intended to ask for more.

“What do you mean, Wingul...?”

“Enough! I didn't want to tell you any of this, don't make me spell it out for you too...” He could hear footsteps approaching but didn't dare look up. 

“Wingul. I want to understand this. I want to understand _you_. So please- tell me.”

“I really do need to spell it out for you? I... didn't expect that... I thought you would have noticed it by now.” A part of him was slightly amused by Gaius' inability to see it even now...

“Notice what?”

“Where's your usual perceptiveness? I would have thought that you'd notice earlier that I... like you. A- a lot.” It was out now. He'd confessed it. Tensely, fists clenched tightly, Wingul waited for Gaius' reaction.

For a second, none came. Then Gaius said quietly, “You do? You really do?” 

That wasn't what Wingul had expected. He didn't know how to respond, either. Then Gaius suddenly let out a shaky laugh, startling Wingul. “I seem to be bad at reading you. For all these years I thought you always had mixed feelings about me... that you couldn't forgive me for what I've done. I thought...” His voice trailed off when Wingul shook his head. 

“A part of me does still. But mostly, I just... like you. I noticed it a while ago...” It was embarrassing to say it like this. With a sigh, he added, “Can we forget that this conversation ever happened? I'd rather we go on as we used to than...”

“I will do no such thing, I'm afraid, since I actually like you too.”

Wingul's head whipped up. “But I thought you...”

Gaius laughed again. “Are you telling me you didn't notice either? We both asssumed the other didn't reciprocate our feelings? Oh, come here.” With that, he pulled Wingul into an embrace. Wingul, not having expected it, gave a startled yelp and blushed furiously. He wasn't quite sure what to do either, was he supposed to hug back or...

“I only noticed it recently myself, you know,” Gaius said as he let go. “It didn't take me very long to start liking you as my friend- you are and you have been for a long time now- but a while ago, there was a point when I looked at you... and realised that there's more to it than that. Funny, isn't it?”

He took his hand. “And this is why you never stopped pushing yourself harder than anyone else? Because you thought I'd never develop genuine feelings for you? Is that it?”

Wingul nodded. 

“Stupid. But if I can't convince you it's not true, then I suppose training sessions are in order- if you promise not to do anything reckless again.”

“But-”

“No buts. I was worried. If you still don't understand that seeing you in danger is something I would rather not have happen again, I might have to redact my impression of your intelligence. I will respect your wish to get stronger- you're right in that, everything else would be hypocritical- but I won't have you rush into danger needlessly. Yes, even if that means protecting you.”

Wingul faltered under Gaius' stern look. He had wanted to complain- he had laid out his reasoning clearly enough, had he not?- but it seemed like he would have to accept it. WIth a sigh, he nodded. “I can... accept that, I think. I will be more careful. But you have to let me walk on my own. I couldn't stand you being so overbearing...”

“Then it's a deal.” Gaius extended his hand. “You won't do anything overly stupid and I will allow you to stand your own.”

Wingul shook the hand offered to him. “It's a deal.”

As Gaius drew him close into an embrace again, he couldn't help but think that the man's dogged persistence had its advantages.


End file.
